


Stripped

by itainthardtryin



Series: We're Bad At Dating: Clexa Edition (AU tumblr prompts) [5]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Platonic Lexa/Octavia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 05:24:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3638376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itainthardtryin/pseuds/itainthardtryin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part five of the "We're Bad At Dating" series. Based on this prompt: We took each other’s underwear from the laundromat by mistake.</p>
<p>Alternatively, Lexa does laundry every Sunday. And after today she hopes she'll get to do Clarke every Sunday too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stripped

 

Ever since she moved to college, Lexa has made it her Sunday afternoon ritual to do laundry. She always brings her laptop, some headphones, and catches up on any shows she’s missed during the week while she’s waiting. She notices no-one and nothing, and today is no different. She’s just finished off the most recent episode of Game of Thrones, so she packs up her stuff, plugs her headphones into her iPhone and puts on some music to drown out the world.

She walks over to the machines - one for clothes, one for her delicates - takes her laundry out, shoves it in a bag, and leaves.

\---

An hour later, she’s back in her dorm. She throws the bag down, takes off her jeans and changes into a clean hoodie and sweatpants. She starts taking out the rest of her clothes, folding them neatly and putting them into her closet.

Until she starts unpacking her underwear and realises that none of it is hers. “Oh shit,” she mumbles under her breath, taking out piece after piece. Lacy black panties, deep red bras with intricate detail, even a thong that leaves Lexa wondering how much of a person it would even cover.

She sighs heavily, puts her headphones back on, and goes back to the laundromat.

\---

When she gets there, she immediately knows who the underwear belongs to. There’s a blonde girl on the far side of the room with Lexa’s boxer briefs in her hand. On any other occasion, Lexa would be embarrassed. But when she runs her eyes up and down the blonde’s body, and thinks back to the lacy underwear she’d found before, a small smile creeps over her face.

She walks over to the girl, mentally picturing what she could be wearing underneath her vest top and skinny jeans. “I believe these are mine,” Lexa says when she’s close enough, reaching out to grab her boxers.

The girl jumps slightly. “Oh. Right.” She looks confused.

“These must be yours,” Lexa tells her, handing over the bag of underwear. The girl blushes and laughs.

“Thanks. I was freaking out a little.”

“At least yours is pretty hot,” Lexa smiles. “I’m Lexa.”

“Clarke. And I mean, I don’t know about you, but I like a girl in boxer briefs,” Clarke informs her, and Lexa was not expecting that. “It’s very sexy,” she purrs, walking away from Lexa and back to her machine.

“I could say the same for girls in matching lacy numbers.” Lexa follows her, wanting to be close to her. She watches as Clarke empties out the rest of her clothes - tight dresses and low cut tops, mixed in with sweats and football jerseys.

“It’s even sexier when they’re in nothing but panties and your shirt,” Clarke offers, taking a plaid blouse out of the drier. It takes less than a second for Lexa to wonder what it would look like on her on a lazy Sunday morning when she gets up to make Clarke breakfast.

“I guess I’ll have to take your word for it, Clarke.”

“Or I could prove it,” she offers. And Lexa would never say no to something like that.

\---

Lexa’s glad that she folded and put away her laundry leaving the place tidy, before because she wasn’t exactly planning on having a girl in her room today. And yet here she is, with Clarke, who she only met half an hour ago.

“Do you even own a shirt, Lexa?” Clarke asks, taking in the room. She absentmindedly runs her fingers over photoframes and trinkets that Lexa has displayed on her shelves.

“A few,” Lexa tells her. “What color suits you best?”

Clarke laughs. “I’m not really fussy about color, Lexa. You pick.” Lexa rummages through her closet and picks out an oversized red and blue checked shirt.

“I think you need to take off some of your clothes if you’re going to prove your point,” Lexa says. Clarke smirks and wastes no time in taking off her jacket, followed by her vest top. She barely gives Lexa a chance to take in her toned stomach before she unclasps her bra and lets it fall to the floor. Lexa swallows hard.

“Like what you see?” Clarke flirts, and Lexa can barely form words, so she just nods. Clarke takes that as a green light to unbutton her pants and push them down her legs, stepping out of them with grace. She kicks them out of the way and stands in front of Lexa, completely naked apart from the royal blue g-string that is leaving very little to the imagination. “Pass me the shirt.”

Lexa complies, handing it to her. Clarke puts it on, rolling up the sleeves as she does. “Well? Was I right?”

Lexa takes in the sight in front of her. A girl she didn’t know an hour ago, standing there wearing only her shirt and very revealing underwear. How her day became this she will never understand, but she hopes that there will be many more days like this in the future. “One hundred percent,” Lexa agrees, before taking the few steps forward to close the distance between them. She kisses Clarke hard, and Clarke kisses back with just as much passion. Lexa’s hands slip underneath the shirt onto Clarke’s bare skin and she allows her fingers to trace lines up and down Clarke’s back and hips.

“You. Are so. Sexy,” Lexa tells her, punctuating with kisses.

“Stop talking,” Clarke pleads, desperate to keep their lips together. She groans in disappointment a few moments later when Lexa separates herself from Clarke. Lexa leads her to the bed, Clarke sitting down on the edge. Lexa climbs on top of her, straddling her hips.

“Seriously,” Lexa continues. “You’re driving me crazy.”

Clarke’s eyes are heavy with lust. “If you keep talking, I’m going to have to do something about it.”

Lexa can feel the deep throb of arousal building. She takes off her hoodie, exposing her breasts. Clarke tries to make a comment, but the words are lost in her mouth.

Lexa kisses her again, more delicately this time. She loses herself in the taste of Clarke’s lips, on the way their bare skin feels as it touches, the sensation of Clarke’s shallow breaths on her face.

She is completely lost, immersed in everything Clarke, when-

“Oh my God, Lexa, what the hell?!” Octavia exclaims as she walks through the door. Clarke pulls back from Lexa, trying desperately to cover herself, embarrassed. Lexa climbs off Clarke, grabs her hoodie from where it landed on the floor and pulls it on.

“You always pick the worst times to interrupt me,” Lexa tells her with an even voice. She’s not embarrassed in the slightest. Just annoyed and horny.

“You know doors have locks? To prevent these kinds of things.”

“There’s also a generally accepted form of manners called knocking. Maybe you’ve heard of it.”

Octavia sighs. “Whatever, Lex. Are you coming to the bar tonight or are you staying here with blondie?”

Lexa doesn’t understand why this is even a question that needs to be answered.

“I can go if you have plans,” Clarke says from behind her, gathering up her clothing that has been haphazardly discarded in various parts of the room.

“No, stay,” Lexa tells her. The look in Clarke’s eyes tells Lexa that she wasn’t ready to leave anyway. It ignites a new fire within her.

“Fine, okay,” Octavia says. “But don’t blame me when she breaks your heart.” Lexa thinks the comment is a little below the belt, but she knows Octavia is only looking out for her. She doesn’t mean any harm. “She’s really cute, Lex,” Octavia whispers as she leaves.

As soon as the door is closed, Lexa rushes over to it to make sure it’s locked. She doesn’t want a second interruption. “I’m so sorry about her,” Lexa apologises. “She has no sense of boundaries.”

Clarke smirks. “Hopefully you have the same problem,” she says. Lexa knows an invitation when she hears one.

“Maybe you’ll just have to take my word for it, Clarke.”

“Or maybe you could prove it.”


End file.
